


Of Sunrises and Stardust

by Victori



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21928270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victori/pseuds/Victori
Summary: "Merlin had lived through a thousand springs, and had learned that nothing ever began again. Spring wasn’t hope; it was a cycle, one that came and went as Merlin stood still and watched it fly by. Spring was life as a reminder of death."ORMerlin has been waiting too long, and is on the verge of giving up. But his destiny was written in the stars, and it's not willing to let him go that easily.Written for Merthur Kissfest 2019
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 92
Collections: The Merlin/Arthur Kiss Fest 2019





	Of Sunrises and Stardust

Merlin had seen this all before. The sun would appear from behind the clouds, melting the snow and giving life to the formerly-barren landscape. The grass would turn from its ugly shade of brown to emerald, sparkling with fresh morning dew. The landscape would fill with sweet-smelling daffodils, daisies, and roses, and the birds would return from their winter away, singing the praises of a world newly-born. Spring in and of itself was a reminder, a song telling the universe that things could start anew, that the world was _alive._

Merlin had never felt more dead.

He’d adored springs in Camelot. Each warm sun made him certain that there was hope on the horizon, and he’d soaked it in, closing his eyes and imagining how Arthur would look bathed in the sunshine.

But Merlin was old now, older than he had any right to be. To the world, Camelot was nothing more than a legend, Arthur no more than a fantasy. To Merlin, it was a reminder of all things lost, never to return again. Now, as spring gracefully ascended, Merlin could feel nothing but anger and despair. Merlin had lived through a thousand springs, and had learned that nothing ever began again. Spring wasn’t hope; it was a cycle, one that came and went as Merlin stood still and watched it fly by. Spring was life as a reminder of death.

So, as the birds returned from their vacations, and the animals woke from their slumber, Merlin watched a lake as still as the night.

The memories assaulted him, as they usually did. Sometimes, he didn’t want to remember, but how could he ever forget? He’d made flower crowns with the other servants from wildflowers. He’d danced in the moonlight in the festivals, letting the cool evening seep into his skin and keep him awake. He’d gone on hunts, as the animals had scurried up from their hiding places, and he’d trip over the roots of the trees and Arthur would laugh, head thrown back, reaching out to clasp his shoulder and—

Merlin dug his fingers into the dirt, the feel of the moist soil grounding him. He was wishing for something that was gone forever. Fantasies would do him no good. Between the fantasies and the nightmares, he’d take the nightmares. Both ended in tears; at least the nightmares didn’t leave that horrible ache of longing in his chest.

“Are you listening, you clotpole?” Merlin whispered to the calm lake in front of him. “Because I’m only going to say this once.”

Arthur didn’t answer. Merlin hadn’t expected him to.

“I’m tired, Arthur. I said I’d never stop waiting, but now—” Merlin choked on the rising tears. He let out a laugh. “You always said I was a terrible manservant. I can’t even do _this_ right.”

Merlin rubbed his hands together. He took note of how empty they felt. “I think I’ve been lied to, forever. They said you’d rule Albion, bring a Golden age. They said I wouldn’t have to live in fear.” Teardrops hit the soil. “They said you would come back. But it doesn’t work like that, does it? There are never second chances.”

His blurred vision cleared, just for a second, and he peered across the lake, trying to remember the faces of those long lost to time. “Albion _needs_ you, Arthur. But, after the mess I’ve made, I’m fairly certain it doesn’t need me.”

Merlin rose shakily to his feet. “This is…goodbye. I’ve failed you for the last time, and I’m so sorry.” He wiped his eyes with trembling hands. His world swayed. “Gods, I’m so _sorry._ ”

When the gravity of a solar cloud becomes too great, it collapses under its own weight. Merlin, whose destiny had been written in the stars, fell to the ground, the burden of a thousand years drawing forth sobs from his thin frame. He held his arms tight against his body, allowing grief and agony to consume him. He was lost, and alone, and all but dead.

The water rippled.

Merlin’s eyes shot up. His breath was caught in his throat, and his heart leaped for the first time in a millennium. He watched, with wide-eyed wonder, as a man emerged, hair the color of the sun, eyes containing a galaxy of stars. It couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible—

“Merlin?”

Merlin ran into the lake, calling the name he hadn’t dared speak aloud for years. “Arthur!”

Arthur met him halfway, catching Merlin as he jumped into his arms. He clung to Merlin just as tightly as Merlin clung to him.

“Merlin,” He whispered reverently. “ _Merlin.”_

“Don’t leave,” Merlin begged. He was past the point of dignity. He just wanted to hold Arthur, and let himself be held. “Please, stay with me.”

Arthur held Merlin’s face in his hands, gentle and adoring. He kissed the tears off of Merlin’s face, each press of lips a promise. Against Merlin’s lips, he whispered, just for them, “I’ll stay with you forever.”

Stars collapse under their own weight. But from the wreckage comes a new star, growing from an explosion of gravity and stardust, lighting up the galaxy, bringing warmth and peace in the uncertain darkness. Everything dies, true. But every new day is a chance to be born again.

And, with Arthur’s arms tight around him and the sun warm on his back, Merlin could swear he saw hope on the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write something for this fandom for such a long time and once I heard about the fest there was no way I wasn't going to write for it. The BBC killed Arthur on Christmas so I thought I'd bring him back on Christmas too. Thank you so much for reading!


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